


If Not We, Who?

by Zelenina



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beta Louis Tomlinson, Beta/Omega, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Harry, Omega Niall, Roommates, Rough Sex, mentions of:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22426111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zelenina/pseuds/Zelenina
Summary: “So?” Niall narrows his eyes at him.“So? Are you serious? How would it work? Harrylovesbeing an omega, you know that. I wouldn’t know how to scent him, how to calm him,” he laughs but even he’s aware how sad it sounds, “and what about his heats?” He shrugs his head. “There’s a reason why beta and omega relationships never work.”
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Other(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I’m writing what I’m missing in this fandom. The idea of beta/omega relationship makes me want to dissect it. Like, you have this "sexless" gender and then one that is vastly sexualized? I find this dynamic fascinating - or, the potential of it.
> 
> This first part is a bit angsty imo, but there’ll definitely be more fluff and the happiest of happy endings!

Louis considers himself a good guy. Not a save-the-world- type of a person, but he helps Mrs Harris cross the road near his apartment building at least once a week. She’s always out and about with her eight years old bullterrier Travis, who _hates_ Louis and lets him know it with his sharp canines every time Louis is distracted by Mrs Harris squashing his cheeks or being asked about his mum.

He recycles and brings his old clothes to thrift shops. He also watches his neighbour’s little grandson every few days for a couple of hours. The grandmum, Mrs Mao, is taking care of him all on her own and pays Louis with her special cookies, that are hard as rock but Louis has no heart to tell her that. All in all, he is a human being that tries living his life and help in any small ways that he can think of.

He doesn’t ask for much. But there are things in life he has no control over. Like being head over heel for his best mate, his roommate, and watch him getting his heart broken over and over again and have absolutely no power to save him from the douchebags that seem to stick to him.

Louis’s sitting in their living room trying to watch the new episode of The Great British Bake Off that said roommate has promised he would watch with Louis. When he was leaving with Douchebag No. 4 (of this year, today being the last week of January), he said he would be back in hour and a half. Two max. Louis knows how this goes by now. He looks at their dvd set up that displays in glaring red numbers: 00:46. Harry left shortly after seven.

Just when he contemplates to just turn the TV off (bread week episode is always sub-par, however glamorous they try to make it), he hears the tell-tale sound of someone trying and not managing to open the door with their keys. Louis has few seconds to calm his features and to sit properly. When he finally hears the door opening, he slowly turns around and smiles.

“Hi, H. Good date?”

Harry looks almost as always when he crosses their threshold, shrugs his coat and untoes his golden boots. Almost. He slightly wobbles and has to catch himself on the wall when he starts walking towards the kitchen. When he reaches the sink, he misjudges the strength needed to start pouring water into a glass and splashes everywhere. Then, after saving them from a potential flood, he drinks his water and turns to Louis, still leaning on the cabinets.

“Mm.” His eyes flicker to the TV. “Ah, sorry. Was the episode good?” He talks even more slowly than normally, his words low and precise as if he’s trying to articulate properly.

“Bread week.” Louis shrugs, “best episode to miss.” He tries to smile. Moves a bit to the side in a clear invitation for Harry to sit with him.

Harry puts his glass down and starts walking slowly towards him and if Louis had any doubts as to what exactly was Harry up to on his date, he knows for sure when Harry carefully sits next to him and hisses. Louis keeps his eyes on the TV where Mary Berry just did an innuendo by the smirking look of one of the contestants. This part of evening is painfully known to him. But from now on, there are two alternatives it can continue in; either Harry wants to talk and/or just be in Louis’ company, so they’ll sit in silence for a while and start talking eventually. Or he’ll sit with Louis for just a short moment out of guilt that he’d left him alone for much longer than he initially promised.

“That dough won’t rise. He overworked it, don’t you think?” Talking it is, then.

“How should I know? ’M not the resident baker, am I, Curly?” He dares to look to his side. Harry is playing with his rings.

“’M not a baker, I only managed the cash register.” He doesn’t smile and that is new. He always at least tries and acts as if his date went well. When Louis was new to this – this new development in Harry’s dating life – after a first date when Harry came home and sit with him, Louis tried to hug him. Harry was smiling then but Louis could sense he was confused and not sure about something, so he tried to comfort him. But he didn’t know then, what Harry’s dates mostly _consisted_ of. That they were not only “wining and dining” type of dates, but more like wining and dining and bedding events. So, after the initial attempt for a hug, when Harry pushed him away blushing, Louis was confused at first. And then Harry had to awkwardly explain that he doesn’t smell like himself, not really, at least not only himself, and was uncomfortable with another touch and smell (however subtle in Louis’ case) on him so soon after… those activities with the alpha and before he had a chance to shower. It was probably the first time in his life Louis really hated being a beta and not having the smell and the ability to access the situation and to not being able to calm Harry with his presence and scent alone. It was also probably the first time he realised his feelings for his best mate in full force. That was almost two years ago. The “dates” were only starting then, but they seem to get more frequent the more Harry was sure that “the one” must be somewhere around the corner waiting for him.

The first few times Harry came back smiling, happy and bouncy even, hopeful. Louis was happy for him. But the eventual hopefulness slowly turned into these desperate attempts at dating, that only led to one thing. The alphas never called again. Louis could see the brave face Harry was putting on every time he came back and it hurt not being able to help as much as he would be able to, if he only were either omega - or alpha even. To just sit and be a friend when he knew Harry deserved so much more than those assholes. But being beta put him in this ignorant area, and he had no right to act like he knew what Harry was going through. Harry was the nicest person in the world, but even he did make it very clear that while he really respects Louis’ advice in almost every aspect of their life, Louis could never understand the relationships between alphas and omegas and what exactly they entail. These second genders themselves were something of an enigma to Louis, who got only educated in the general area of the sexes, and never got the full picture in school the way alphas and omegas did. Which was utter bullshit, as he knows now, because there is only so much he can try and learn from the dubious blogs on the Internet. Sexuality of the second genders is still something of a taboo in the society and the only “reliable” textbooks are around fifty years old and unhelpful on their own. Also, Harry is a rare male omega, which puts him even more in the unknown category. While omegas overall are considered the “weak sex” with an anomalous weak constitution, male omegas are the ultimate abnormality. “One is lucky if they meet one or two male omega specimens during their lifetime,” as Louis’ textbook _The Secondary Genders and Their Roles in Civilized Society_ helpfully reminds him.

The few times Louis dared and asked Harry about the dates and why they ended… on that note, Harry’s answers broke his heart. The first ones went something along the lines of “Well, he was super nice and he paid for the _very_ expensive dinner! He made reservation at The Dome, you know how hard it is to get there on short notice! He’ll call tomorrow, you’ll see.” or “He said I smelled like something he only dreamed of! And you could see that what he was telling was the true, Lou! We clicked immediately, he was so nice and hardly let go of my hand the whole dinner!” to the later ones, which mostly got appraisal like “He asked me if I wanted to go to the hotel with him, didn’t even make it sound as a request but like he really wanted to know what I want to do. He definitely deserved a chance.” (Louis cried to that one later in his bed, when he could stop pretending that this was all ok). None of it could prepare him for the appraisal of the latest alpha, though, the Douchebag No. 4 of today: “He was very funny at first. He reminded me of you.” Harry was still playing with his rings. He spoke as soon as the subtitles at the end of the episode started. As if he were patiently waiting for Louis’ episode to end and to not disturb him while watching.

Louis was watching him carefully, not sure if he heard him right.

“He made me laugh and wanted to hear my knock knock jokes.” He laughs and it sounds like sandpaper. “So. I thought he would be nice. You know. Later.” Louis is selfish and doesn’t want to listen to anything anymore. His chest hurts and he thought he would be prepared for anything after all these nights. But apparently not. So he listens. Harry scoots more to his side of the couch and puts his legs on it. After a bit of shuffling he rests in the corner with his knees up and his chin on them, sitting with his hands around his legs. “But I don’t know. I must have- I did something that make him- that he didn’t like,” Harry blushes and it’s not the good kind, Louis is not a violent person but he wants to _punch_ something, _someone_ , and punch _hard_ , “and so. I just know he won’t call.” He laughs again, this time self-deprecatingly, and Louis wants to cry right at this moment. After all this time, Harry, his sweetest, kindest Harry thinks he is the one at fault. And Louis knows, knows as soon as those words are out of his mouth, what Harry will say back, but how can he _not_ , “Hazza, he’s the biggest tosser if he made you feel like that. You couldn’t have done anything that made you feel like you deserved bad treatment and I swear to God if he hurt you in any way-”

“Oh no! He wasn’t like… Aggressive. Much.” Louis starts to get up, not knowing what in the fucking hell he’ll do exactly, but he’s ready to bolt out of the door and find the bastard in whatever way it would take – but Harry’s hand on his wrist stops him before he can fully get up. “Lou! Really! I’m fine, he wasn’t like… violent or anything. He was just… Passionate! Was what I wanted to say before. Please, Lou.” Harry’s looking at him with his big doe eyes, pleading.

Louis sits down slowly, still one foot out of the apartment if anything else in this conversation points him that way. As if Harry could sense that, he continues, his hand still lightly on Louis’. “It was all right with him, I just expected him to be a bit more, you know.” He blushes because they never discuss _it_ very coherently, and Louis wants to blast his whole sex ed class to hell because he can’t help Harry if they can’t talk about it properly. But they never will be, it seems, it’s too engraved in them, the intimacy considered to be something dirty and shameful. But Harry tries now.

“I just thought- He seemed like he would be the gentler type, ’s all. He definitely didn’t coerce me into anything I didn’t want.” He smiles and Louis can only hope he can read him well enough that he would know if he lied to him. “I think it’s time I take a break from dating.” He isn’t smiling anymore. Louis tries to read him and can only think of how contemplating he looks. Resigned. “I need to rethink few things. I am too picky and I have to set straight my priorities. Think about what’s most important in an alpha.” He picks on his lower lips as he thinks aloud while Louis is baffled. “The rom-coms are not helpful in presenting what a romance is, what it _should be_ like, you see?” He looks at Louis as if waiting for a nod. Louis just stares.

“But- But you love romantic comedies.”

“Well, yeah! And that’s the problem, innit? I have to reevaluate my priorities and what I really need from a relationship, not only what I want.”

“But, that’s settling, Harry. For something not good enough.”

Harry looks slightly manic now, gesturing wildly with his hands, legs crossed on the couch.

“No! Don’t you see! I thought the problem had something with the alphas, but it was me all along! It makes complete sense, there were too many of them for that to be a coincidence.”

Louis is lost for words. He is aware that they never talk this openly about Harry’s attempts at relationship and he very carefully chooses his words when he says, “Haz, don’t you think there is a chance they were all dickheads? It might be simple as that.”

But he hasn’t even finished speaking and Harry continues, cheeks crimson again: “No, Lou, I _know_ I am too demanding.” When Louis tries to protest, Harry stops him with his hand in front of him. “No, let me speak, please. I don’t want to repeat myself when I tell you this. Um.” So Louis waits in silence but it’s _hard_. “I know I am too demanding in that… when I’m intimate? Um. I was told – few times –“ he mumbles that part, looking down at his knees, “that it’s not typical omega behaviour? And like.” He takes a deep breath. “It can be very interesting. For alphas. Um. Their wolves like it, I’ve been told. But it’s not maintainable? For them?” Louis must look very confused when Harry dares a look at him, so he continues in a rush “BasicallyIlooklikeI’minaheatallthetimeIhavesex.”

“Um. What?”

“When I have, um, sex, I want it too much? Like. As if I’m in a heat? All the time during it?” Louis doesn’t know how to respond, so he just nods encouragingly, and Harry continues, braved by the little move. “Like, not all the time, the sex must be really good for me to… Get into that headspace. But… When it _is_ … I was told I am too much. And I don’t know how not to be. So, you see my dilemma. When I really enjoy doing it and want a relationship out of it, they say I’m too much to handle like that.”

“Harry… Did they… They didn’t let you drop, right?” The dread inside of Louis grows a bit with every breath Harry takes before he answers:

“Well, they don’t know what to do, when that happens, it freaks them out!”

Louis can’t believe this. “What the fuck, Harry.” The revelation’s much worse because he _knows_ he’s uneducated on this matter and Harry always lightens the situations. The dread inside of him grows bigger. “Hazza… Please, don’t tell me that every time you come home and you’re a bit out of it it’s because… They left you like that.” Louis doesn’t know much about these things, but if he knows one thing and one thing only, it’s that the Touch Deprivation Drop that omega can suffer is probably the worst thing that can happen to them. It’s only discussed in connotations of heat and it’s considered to be the only reason an omega has a right to ask for an annulment of a bond - if an alpha knots an omega and then lets them dropping, without scenting and taking care of them. Basically, when alphas fuck omegas and then leave them afterwards without care in the world. Louis thought it can happen only when the omega is in heat, when all the senses are heightened and they are at their most vulnerable But. If what Harry is saying is true…

“Oh, love.” He feels like he could cry. He _curses_ and _curses_ his horrible sexless gender because he can do absolutely nothing right now. He’s not what Harry needs right now. “Do you want to take a shower? And I can call Niall?”

Harry looks almost calm now and is looking at Louis slightly surprised. “Niall? What for?”

“Um. So he can come and. Hug you for a bit? If you wanted?” He knows closeness of another omega is not what Harry needs the most right now, but it’s definitely the best solution, at least what he can think of right now. The calming scent they are able to produce are especially strong between the two omegas, not really even because they are both male omegas, but because they are very close friends.

“Oh. No! It’s too late, and seriously! I’m fine.” He smiles. “I’m used to this.” He must see what those few words do to Louis because he quickly continues. “I just need to sleep it off! I’ll be good as new tomorrow morning, you’ll see! I’m just a bit tired.” He smiles softly. “Please, Louis, trust me. It’s all good.”

Louis watches as Harry stands up and more steadily than before moves to the hall leading to their bedrooms. Just before he turns the corner, he turns around and winks at him. “Go to sleep! You have to be up with the sun and we know how grumpy you are if you oversleep!” With that he continues to the bathroom and his act would be perfect if Louis’ ears weren’t listening. The soft thumping sound of his socks hitting the floor slows down considerably right after he goes out of Louis’ sight. But just when Louis tries to blame his ears – maybe he’s just projecting and being paranoid – he looks up and the slight shadow of a moving figure he can still see on the wall of the corridor, stops. And then crouches as if its owner slumped on the opposite wall. Louis is out of the couch before he can register he’s moving, but when he reaches the corridor, he’s met with only the sound of closing bathroom door.

He stomps to the couch again and reaches for one of the pillows on it and after he’s sure he can hear the shower’s on, he screams and screams into it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis sees the resolution in his eyes and more than anything, what he can hear in his voice is a dismissal. How can Louis be so set up on trying and finding a way to help him if Harry himself doesn’t consider Louis’ help at all? So, he nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest fear I have posting this while it’s still incomplete is; I really hope it comes across that Louis doesn’t want to _hurt_ Harry. At least not in a way Harry wouldn’t enjoy (he he). But because the story is from Louis’ point of view (and he’s still at this horrible place of being ashamed of himself and what he wants), please let it be known I _really_ want this whole fic to be about a healthy relationship, where absolutely no one is ill-treated or ill-treating somebody else, be it physically or mentally.

Louis can’t sleep. He’s restless, the duvet is too cold, his pillow is in a weird lumpy state, his blue blanket is bunched up somewhere in his armpit and his head stays uncomfortably close to the wall he shares with Harry’s bedroom. He tells himself it’s not creepy, it’s just the best place for him tonight, his bed is old and broken on the other side. He doesn’t try to listen to any and all sounds coming from his roommate’s side. Nope. He sighs. “Jesus, don’t be ridiculous,” he murmurs and gets up. The clock tells him it’s just after five, he would have to be up in an hour anyway.

He starts on the breakfast, simple toast with ham and on strong tea for himself and strong coffee for Harry – he falters with his hand above the coffee maker… Harry did home quite late and he was exhausted. He hates stale and cold coffee. Just as he was contemplating leaving the making of the coffee just before he must leave for work, he hears opening of doors and then a shower. He frowns. Harry showered just before he went to bed yesterday. It takes a second, but the realisation makes him angry all over again. The anger never really went away but in the silence and quiet of the night it was easier to pretend it’s something of a fluke, something not so real that has to be dealt with with the arrival of a new day.

He’s sipping on his tea when Harry emerges. They exchange sleepy “hellos” and while Harry seems a bit shy, he’s definitely more coherent and aware. He looks very self-conscious as he’s trotting around the kitchen sleepy and soft looking, pouring the coffee Louis made in the end. When he sits in front of Louis on the breakfast table with plate with a toast on, he looks more content and like himself.

The corners of his mouth are quirking up. “If I knew my confessions would ensure cooked breakfast made in the middle of the night, I would have started talking a long time ago.”

“Oi, that’s not funny, you prick!” Harry smiles but still can’t meet Louis’ eyes head on. “I’ll let you know the breakfast is a very special service. Not everyone can get the whole Tommo breakfast deal.” Harry laughs then. “Yup, I feel real special. The burnt toast is your special of the day, then?” He hugs his hot mug as if he needs the warmth. It’s boiling in the flat, though. Normally, Louis wouldn’t think of it much, now though… Harry notices Louis’ stare and quickly moves to pick up his fork.

Louis dares to ask, “How are you… really?” Harry very carefully and slowly as if he were a surgeon operating on the most difficult operation, cuts his toast into small pieces.

“Um. I am fine. A bit embarrassed, ain’t I?” He dares a look from his dissected patient, “I was not really myself last night, sorry you had to see that.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t mean that.”

Harry shrugs.

“H, seriously. _I_ am sorry I can’t help.”

The nonchalance with which Harry smiles and responds, “that’s all right. Now we’re both sorry, can we pretend it didn’t happen?” hardens and closes something in Louis. Harry sees he wants to respond, and he doesn’t give him a chance, “Lou, honest. Please let it go. I meant it when I said I’ll try and change my dating life. So, it won’t happen again. Ok?”

Louis sees the resolution in his eyes and more than anything, what he can hear in his voice is a dismissal. How can Louis be so set up on trying and finding a way to help him if Harry himself doesn’t consider Louis’ help at all? So, he nods.

Their routine returns to the one it was _Before_. Louis can’t even understand how it’s possible, that Harry acts like everything is the same. Maybe for him it is. It was, after all, his life for a long time. Only Louis has his world turned around his axis with the new information he can’t do anything about. The only main difference is Harry’s dates. Or, their lack of. Louis would be happy with the situation if Harry didn’t seem more distant, more controlled like he takes care of how others see him. He still goes out with their group of friends on Fridays and sometimes during the week, and is sociable as ever, but where there were boisterous laughs and quick mischievous looks just for Louis before, is now just ordinary-peoples-laugh (and how can Louis _notice_ the difference _even_?) and shy looks trying to convey everything is fine.

Harry comes home from work on Friday couple weeks _After_ and is visibly exhausted. Louis works as an office admin and considers himself very lucky that his boss doesn’t expect them to be in the offices until five on Fridays, so it’s a routine for them now – when Harry opens the door and Louis is waiting for him with dinner.

“Honey, I’m home!” Harry shouts and Louis feels only a stub of pain at the call. He’s getting better at that.

He’s just putting the take-away Chinese on plates when Harry struts to him trying to get rid of a crick in his neck and pouts. “Why is it taking so long? I was home like seven seconds ago.” Louis laughs.

“Go wash up, you can last another seven.”

“That’s another kind of play…” he can hear Harry mumble as he walks to the bathroom and blushes. Jesus. They never touched the _conversation_ again and he almost forgot how sexual Harry can be. Is. When he wants to be. He shakes his head. _Focus_.

He’s on his phone when Harry returns in his softest sweater and fluffy joggers. He swims in his clothes and Louis is charmed, but what is new.

“Niall asks when we’re meeting today,” he raises his eyebrows as Harry sits opposite him, so similar to the conversation days ago.

“Ah. Um, give me an hour or so. Or two?” His eyes look especially Bambi-like when he’s pleading and Louis is weak. He has an idea.

“I was wondering… I’m a bit tired, is there a chance we bail on the boys and have a quiet one today? At home?”

“Yes, please! God, I didn’t want to whine, I do it all the time.”

“That’s not-“

“I know, I know! You know what I mean.” Louis knows and doesn’t like it.

When Harry’s shoving the food into his mouth because he thinks Louis is letting it go, he continues, “I just hope you know you’re normally a whining pest because of your personality not your gender!”

“Hey! That’s not fair!” Harry screams and then sheepishly wipes the rice that he spit. Louis laughs.

“Yup, look at all that charming personality.” He’s still laughing but stops abruptly when he sees Harry’s face. “You know I’m just joking, right, I would never joke about that if there was anything to it-“

“Lou, you’re fine, of course I know.” He gives him his best dazzling smile. “So, what are we doing? Let’s watch something! We haven’t had a movie night in ages!” He stops and seriously continues: “Its been eighty-four years.” He looks at Louis expectantly. Louis is confused and then, when Harry spurts out of his chair Louis screams:

“You shit, we’re not watching Titanic again!”

“Ha! You just proved you don’t remember it, Lou! And such a classic! Come on. And don’t forget the popcorn, thanks!” he says as he plops on the couch, cell phone in hand, presumably so he can text the boys and excuse the two of them. “I can hear you grumbling all the way from here! And I don’t hear the popcorn poppin’!”

“Yes, yes, Harold,” Louis says as he’s just getting up and putting the plates in the dishwasher, “don’t forget I know where you live!” He doesn’t miss the way Harry just dodged him trying to explain himself.

Three and a half hours later, when Harry is done sobbing loudly, Louis lets the subtitles run as he himself wipes his eyes to his sleeves inconspicuously.

“But Louuuu, they never had a chance! They were together for just such a short of period!” Harry wails.

“Well, yes, that’s why it’s so tragic, innit?” He looks at Harry draped in at least three blankets, one of which looks suspiciously like the blue one from Louis’ bed. He sniffs loudly and desperately and puts his face in the blankets. Louis really hopes the blanket is not his. “Oh, come on, babe.” He startles at the pet name that slipped out. Harry’s just a non-moving blob of curls in the midst of blanket kingdom at this point. Louis is sitting similarly on the other end of couch (minus the blankets) and if he wanted (he wants), he could touch him. He sighs. He does that a lot these days. “Let’s watch something funny now, yeah?” He grabs the remote and goes to the menu with films they’d purchased but not yet seen. “How about this one? You’ve talked my ears off about it.”

One blinking eye makes an appearance from the fluffy pile and then a deep voice as well, “that’s a romance.”

“Well, yeah. But it should be a laugh.”

“Mmmm.”

Louis talks to the curls again. “We just watched the Titanic. This cant be more romantic than that.”

Some fluffy jiggling later, the mass on the couch says: “I really _did_ want to see it.”

“Great!” says Louis as he presses play.

Hour and a half later, Harry is completely immersed into the story. He even laughs at some of the silly bits and looks at Louis when he does, like he wants to see if he finds the scenes funny too. Louis watches Harry more than the film. But then out of nowhere Harry starts to look uncomfortable, so he looks to the screen; the main couple, which consists of a young, almost naïve male omega, and an older, more sophisticated male alpha, are heavily making out. There’s a cut and the camera shows a detail: a tanned hand of the older alpha is pinning the omega’s hand to the wall, right next to where his head is pinned as well. Louis’ breath catches. It’s so very easy to imagine different person being pinned to the wall and being ravished. The omega is just immobile and lets himself be moved where the alpha wants him to. But the noises he’s making make it pretty clear he more than likes being handled roughly. Does Harry make similar noises? Does he like being pinned to the wall? He suggested he likes pleasing alphas he’s with. The noise next to him jerks him out of his reverie. Harry, with half of his face in blankets still, is breathing deeply, almost as if he’s inhaling what the blankets are smelling of, and is looking at the screen, where the characters have ( _finally!_ ) stepped away from each other and are now talking. But Harry looks nearly spooked. He’s restlessly moving his legs underneath him, almost as if he wants to be inconspicuous. Louis looks back to the screen. The couple is in the middle of declaring their love for each other and even though one of the final lines is a bearable knock knock joke, Harry keeps quiet. The film ends, Louis doesn’t know what to do with himself. Did Harry somehow guess what was Louis thinking about? Oh God, he’s so embarrassed – more so, that not only he screams at himself in his mind _pervert pervert pervert_ on the loop, but mostly because the picture in his mind is even more attractive now when he can look at Harry and see the shine in his hair, the swipe of his lashes, the plumpness of his mouth, that is _so unearthly_ _unreal and unfair_ , especially after being bitten the whole movie.

But Harry also looks slightly petrified, with one of the blankets squeezed tightly in his hands as a shield. He’s still looking at the screen, where the subtitles are rolling. Louis can do this. Maybe Harry’s just confused because he doesn’t know why is Louis acting weird? And not moving? So, he very unobtrusively stretches his arms and yawns. It sounds like a dying whale, so he quickly shuts his mouth – Harry startles and looks at him before Louis can put his hands down. They look at each other while Louis puts his hands down – he never felt more awkward.

“So. That was nice, yeah?” He clears his throat.

“Um. Yeah,” Harry coughs. And then says nothing else. Also doesn’t move, just looks ahead.

“Well… I’m knackered. Do you want to shower first?”

“Nah. I’m good,” he smiles but it looks a bit stretched. Silence again.

“Oh, ok then.” But because knowing when to stop prodding was never Louis strong suit, he continues with: “You’re not tired? Do you want to watch something else?”

“Oh no! I’m tired. I mean, go and have a shower. I’ll just sit here for a bit.”

“Um, ok? You’re sure?” Now he’s just confused.

“Yes, my legs got cramps! Yes!” He looks happy with himself.

“I can give you a quick massage, wouldn’t be comfy going to sleep-“

“No! No, it’ll go away, I just need a few minutes.” He hugs all the blankets like he’s building an impenetrable wall around himself.

“If you’re sure then…” Louis tells him slowly. Harry just – quite strongly – pushes him off the couch.

Just before Louis turns into the hall, he turns to Harry to see him slumped with his face in his hands. Fuck.

Few minutes later as he’s standing in the shower under the hot spray of water running down his back, his mind wanders. As do his hands that are trailing down his body. He shivers and makes himself stop. What the fuck. He props his head against the wall and tries not to get hard and vomit at the same time. What does that say about him? Wanting to _grab_ Harry, his sweet, lovely best friend, wanting to _push_ him, to _dig_ into him with his fingers, to feel his skin, to _really_ squeeze him, until he pants, writhes and in this sick dream of his Harry is similarly deprived as him, he wants to be grabbed, pushed, marked. He wants to have his slick pushed into those full bitten lips so roughly he’ll gag. Louis is so hard yet wants to cry. What is his life? Why can’t he be normal? He was only ever intimate with betas, he never really considered other genders attractive, especially omegas – or, at least, other omegas than Harry. But Harry was always different. He’s not for him. He is unearthly, everybody knows that. Or do they? Maybe just Louis sees him as such and now all of his darkest fantasies are coming out. He strokes himself rapidly, can’t help it. _Just this once_ , he thinks. _Please, let it be enough_. He startles when he realises he’s crying for real but he can’t stop now, he’s too close with a vision of Harry on his knees in front of him looking up with his mouth full of his thrusting cock and few of his fingers, trying to make him _full._ He comes and it’s one of the best and at the same one of the worst orgasms of his life.

 _God, I’m just like them._ It takes a while for him to sort himself out.

When he finally steps out of the bathroom, the flat smells strongly of detergent.

“What happened?” he goes to Harry who’s emptying the dishwasher. Louis tries very hard to act normal.

“Oh, I just spilled tea on the couch.” Louis looks at the couch and sees that the (now considerably smaller) mass of the blankets moved to the other side. “Do you get it? Spilling the tea? Ha ha ha. Ha. Uhm.”

“Oh, ok, tea shouldn’t stain.”

“Yeah… So!” He claps his hands, “Im going to go to bed.”

“Oh, ok.” Awkward again. “See you in the morning.”

“Yup.” Harry stays in place for another few seconds and then bolts. Louis thanks all of the above that omegas don’t have more sensitive hearing, like alphas do, because that _thing_ in the shower he has to take to the grave.

He needs to calm down. He sees the tea mug Harry just used in the sink and goes to make a cup for himself. Huh, the kettle’s cold.

He makes himself a brew, but the tea doesn’t calm his nerves as it would normally. Also, he feels horrible to even walk closer to the bedrooms. He feels so dirty, and definitely not the good kind. Harry trusted him, told him how the assholes treated him. And he used the private information and wanked to some of it. Fuck.

He goes to their make-shift bar and takes a good couple of gulps from the vodka. He grimaces and washes away the horrible taste with the rest of his tea.

Later, lying in his bed, he makes a point to put his pillow and the duvet near the wall and he lays as close to the edge as possible. With only the blue blanket to cover himself with, he falls into restless sleep.

He’s surrounded by flowers. They’re very sweet, maybe roses? Or violets? He inhales and feels the calm they bring him. There’s the source of the divine smell right under him and it’s warm and compliant and moving. They’re moving together, it’s nearly too warm, Louis wants to taste the sweet flowery honey he _knows_ is hiding in that warm body underneath. He moves more rapidly, everything is on fire, he needs to taste, the breaths he’s taking aren’t enough. He puts the pliant body on a table? Stool? Grabs the pale flesh and the smooth skin is on fire along with him, he presses into the body and forbids the omega to move, he’s the one to sets the tempo of their hips, but the fire is raging and raging and it’s too much-

Louis startles and sits on the bed.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Fuckity fuck. He needs to do something.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was writing this part, the phrase "big dick" came about and I’ve written it as "bick dick" and for a good few seconds couldn’t realise why my corrector underlined the word bick. This is what writing does to me. I’ll call this fic forever in my mind the Bick Dick fic. Help.

Louis cowardly waits until he hears Harry leave from the flat at ten in the morning, and only then leaves his room to go to bathroom and picks his laptop from where he left it in the living room the day prior. Armed with a fresh cup of tea as well, he snuggles in his bed covers and opens the computer on his legs. With fingers hovering over the keyboard and opened blank page of a browser, he stills.

They have a deal, Harry and him. On Saturday mornings, they go grocery shopping together to their local supermarket. Unless, of course, one of them oversleeps because of their hangover, is ill or has a previously agreed on engagement. Harry didn’t wait for Louis to wake up and it stings but the more importantly – he will be gone for a while. It’s hard to lure him away from the veggie and yogurt section when Louis is with him, but when he shops alone, he’s able to stay in those aisles for a while. He has at least hour and a half. So where to start?

The first ten minutes are a total waste of time, he starts with a very general search of “omega and beta relationship” and finds just a few articles about the typical omega/alpha, even the omega/omega and alpha/alpha pairings, betas are always mentioned only as an afterthought in the text – something that _exists_ in the same universe as the other two genders but is considered almost a different species altogether. He frustratingly types in “omega and beta together” and is surprised to see quite a few more results – which turn out to be mostly links to kinky porn pages. He’s desperate though, so he clicks on them. He quickly discovers that there’s (well, apparently) a market for kinky porn where the omegas are depicted as sexually desperate and manipulative vixens, that lure everything in their way with their charm and downright sexual magic. The few betas in these scenarios are naïve, stupid and most simple-minded simpletons Louis’s ever seen. They’re also only side characters that the omegas apparently have to use before they move onto their next target, whether it’s an alpha or omega. He’s insulted – for Harry and himself. He shuts the laptop and thinks.

Most of the people on the planet are betas. Alphas and omegas make around 20 per cent of the population. So Louis was never in a need of a partner. Betas easily find other betas to date. And while it’s not necessarily _compulsory_ to talk about your secondary gender e. g. during a work interview, it _is_ written in your ID and all medical reports. And one doesn’t need the great alpha’s or omega’s smell receptors they’re equipped with, to recognize when someone is missing every couple months at work with a special doctor’s note – for ruts and heats. It’s easy to spot the specific gender in a person even when people are not openly talking about them. It infuriates Louis. How is he supposed to find out what he needs to when he doesn’t belong to this specific cast of people? He can’t just run around and ask people. He doesn’t know about any beta that seriously dated an omega. His friend Matt went out a few times with their omega classmate during college. But they were together for what? A month? Two months? And then she went into heat and since then Louis hadn’t seen them together and Matt didn’t want to talk about it. He seriously considers calling him, but they haven’t talked in years. Even if he somehow got hold of his current phone number, he wouldn’t know how to start that conversation.

He diligently ignores the thought at the back of his head, that even if he had the answers he’s after, he wouldn’t know what to do with them. He has no idea how to talk about it with his roommate in question. One step at a time.

So, that leaves his last option. “Oh, fucking hell,” he groans while rubbing the root of his nose. He picks up his phone and with a hopeful look he eyes the time. He still has some, so he curses. No reason to delay the inevitable, he dials the number.

“Hiya! Just the chips and if you get pineapple pizza again, I _will_ take action!”

He sighs and gets resigned to his fate. “Hi, Niall.”

An hour later they’re sitting at a quiet corner of a coffee shop nearby.

“So, what’s got you twisted in your knickers? Not that I don’t like being summoned into this ultra-secret rendezvous, but. You know. I have a life to live during the weekend. _Especially_ during the weekends.”

Louis sips on his tea. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please.” Niall quietly considers him and only takes away his eyes of him when the waitress comes and takes his order. “You called me and then basically run away from your flat – you knew I’ll take at least half an hour to come, yet… Here you are.” He points to the already empty cup of tea in front of Louis besides his current one, and to the paper menu currently in the smallest possible shreds. “You’ve… been busy.” Louis shrugs. He’s got no response.

“I just got a craving. For earl grey.”

“Right… And you couldn’t wait until your mate comes back from the shops and brings it to you – or better yet, go with him as usually.”

“Um.”

“Cheers,” smiles Niall at the waitress when she sets his coffee on the table.

“Did something happen with Harry?” he continues when she leaves. Louis startles. “You did ditch us last night and now you’re avoiding him.”

Louis looks at him, at the open face of one his best friend. Niall is one of the least judgemental people he knows. But _yet_. He takes a deep breath and dives right in.

“I think I like Harry. No, I _know_ I like him. So.” Niall blinks.

“Ok…?”

“Well?” That’s all you have to say?” Maybe this was a bad idea.

“I mean… Yeah? Thanks for telling me. But you could tell me together.”

“What?? You on something?” Louis splutters. Niall looks very confused.

“Oh! Oooooh.” His face does a few things and then settles on understanding and a bit disappointed.

“What do you mean ooooh?? Don’t oooh me!”

“Well, mate, the biggest surprise of this conversation is that what you’re insinuating is a new development?”

“’Course it is!”

“Shut your mouth, Lou, you’ll catch flies in it.” He sighs. “Ok, listen. I just always thought… You know.” Louis doesn’t know. “That you were together or something already.” He starts look uncomfortable and at last Louis thinks, he takes the conversation seriously. But what the fuck.

“What? Why?”

“You’re always together, honestly, I just thought you don’t want to flash it in our faces. Your co-dependency on each other is almost scary and you’re always stuck together and touchy-feely. Well…” He contemplates, “until the last few days or weeks.” Louis gulps. Are they that obvious? “I thought something might’ve happened, but then you stayed home together yesterday, and I thought everything is all right?”

“Is that so.” Louis slowly responds. He needs a drink. Damn this early weekend’s hour. He plays with the shred pile in front of him. “I don’t know if he likes me. Like _that_. I-“ He drinks the remains of his cold tea and waves the waitress for a new one. “I don’t think he does.” He didn’t want to think about that specific yet, but it’s very important Niall understands. “I really don’t.” Niall looks like he wants to interrupt, so he doesn’t give him a chance. “It’s not that easy. He dates alphas. He _likes_ them. I think I’m just… There. I know he likes me, loves me even. But I don’t think he can’t ever see me as someone he’d be interested in that sense.”

“Oh, Lou.”

“It is what it is.”

Niall is looking him over, as if he’s accessing him. Louis squirms in his seat. “Ok, so from I’m understanding here… You want to be with him, yeah? Like, properly, with everything that it entails.”

Louis nods, “yeah.”

“So?” Niall narrows his eyes at him.

“So? Are you serious? How would it work? Harry _loves_ being an omega, you know that. I wouldn’t know how to scent him, how to calm him,” he laughs but even he’s aware how sad it sounds, “and what about his heats?” He shrugs his head. “There’s a reason why beta and omega relationships never work out. And how would I even start the conversation? _Hey, mate, I had this epiphany and think we should be together? So, after all these years as my best friend, you love me too, right?_ ” Louis shudders.

“Well, I _do_ think you should talk to him about your feelings.”

“Oh my God, Niall. I can’t just- just- _talk_ about it!” Even Louis can tell he looks like a sulking twelve-year-old, so he puts his hands from his cheeks, where they were clutching his face.

“Listen, boy, to the wisdom of the old Niall Horan, the wise.” (“You’re fucking younger than me and act like a pre-schooler right now.”) Niall coughs and raises his voice. “I think you’re going at it from the wrong angle.”

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind about the omega/beta relationships. Try finding out about what omegas want. What _Harry_ wants. And go from there. You yourself just said that you don’t think Harry feels the same. How do you know? You have to ask him.

“Huh.” He thinks for a while. “But Harry wants alpha-y things. He likes the… specific aspects of that relationship,” he blushes. He doesn’t _blush_ normally when talking about sex. Something tells him it’s not the sex talk, but the feeling of shame, inadequacy. He hates it.

“Well, yeah. But what are those things, exactly?” Before Louis has time to respond, Niall holds up his hand, “besides the obvious, of course.” Louis furrows his brows. Niall sighs. “Oh come on. Imagine a world without the expanding big dick. What else is there to alphas? Things that gets Harry hot and bothered?” _Now_ Louis is blushing because of the sex talk.

“Niall!” He hisses.

“He wants to be wanted, right?” Louis tersely nods. “And you want him? So where’s the problem?”

Louis gulps his new tea. “You make it sound so simple.”

For the first time, he sees Niall looking at him somehow pitifully. He liked the pre-schooler much more. “And why are you making it sound so unbelievable? That a couple of best friends could fall in love and be together? If they already live together, their families are interlaced like they are married for years.” He leans closer to gobsmacked Louis. “You’re people, first and foremost. Your “gender” (he does the air quotes with his fingers) is only something of a pointer, a recommendation, a- a- an advice! Of how to act and _be_ , but Lou, there’s billions of people – you want to tell me, that out of all of them, there are only three types of people? That everybody is boxed into that category when they present and then boom: done! One learns about their gender and can stop with developing their personality, how to act and has to have dictated what they like?” He takes a deep breath. “Don’t you see? Harry has to deal with this- this putting him in a box all the time, it seems like you predisposed this being-an-omega-ergo-he-won’t-like-me onto him but you. Didn’t. Ask. What. He. Thinks.”

Louis blinks. “Well I’ll be damned.”

“Ok, last advice – I’m not saying go and talk to him right away. Like, think about it a bit. Be prepared for when he asks if you’re serious about you two, so that you’re ready to respond. Also, I can lend you some of my books about omega physiology, because as close as we are, mate, I don’t want be the one that teaches you sex ed.” Louis eagerly nods. “Of course, I’ll suffer if you have any specific questions, all right?” He smiles. “You look pale. I didn’t scare you, I hope.”

“I just feel chastised. Thanks, Ni.” He smiles but it’s a bit wobbly. “I need to think. A lot.”

Niall laughs. “Yeah, don’t overdo it, though. Might kill ya.” Louis tries to do that just by looking at him.

Louis returns to the flat shortly after and finds Harry in the middle of preparing their lunch. He instantly feels bad, because even if someone goes to the shops alone, they always cook together. Well, Harry cooks and Louis pesters him. It’s their thing and he wonders how he didn’t realise before. He stops behind Harry and looks around him to the pan. Mmm, spag bol made from scratch.

“Do you need help with anything?”

Harry carefully smiles and replies, “no, thanks.” He looks at Louis questioningly and Louis freezes. On the way home he thought about reasons he can give Harry why he left, but looking at him, he can’t say them and lie to him. So he decides for the easy middle road.

“Eh, I went to get a tea.” Harry turns to the stove.

“Hm, okay.” Louis can _hear_ the wrinkle in the middle of his eyebrows.

“Listen, I thought- Do you want to make cupcakes, later? I talked to Niall, he’ll come by in the evening. We have the sprinkles and decorations we _really_ should use.”

They both look at the cupboard near windows. Its so overflowing with stuff, it can’t be closed properly. Louis squints at it. “We had Harry Potter liners?” There are blotches of colour on his cheeks.

“Mmmm,” he says and mixes the sauce vigorously.

“Harry, did you buy more stuff??”

“It was on sale and sooo cute!” He finally looks at Louis and he can’t help but smirk.

“Oh my God, I really cant let you go to do the shopping alone.”

“Hm, you could come with me.” He rearranges the spices on the shelve. Louis watches him a moment and then thinks, fuck it. With few steps he’s behind him and plasters to his back, arms around his torso and head resting on his shoulder. Harry squeaks with surprise but otherwise stays still.

“Sorry,” mumbles Louis to his neck. Harry shivers. And while normally he wouldn’t think much about it, now he’s tuned and for the first time thinks there’s a chance. He squeezes some more. He can feel doing something with his hand, probably turning the hobs off.

“Lou! What’s going on?”

“’M sorry I let you go alone, I needed some time to think.” He feels Harry breathe out and sag a bit.

“That’s all right. Is everything... fine, now?” Louis can hear the uncertainty in his voice and mentally curses at himself.

“’Course. I just really need to eat your cupcakes later.” He considers Harry’s responding laughter as a win.

“Sure. What kind would you like?”

He takes a while to respond after Harry catches Louis’ hands that are still around him, with his own, and starts to absentmindedly stroke them with his fingers. Louis is doomed. Until now, Harry was someone unreachable, someone he could love because he _knew_ it would never work. But now… What if it _is_ possible? He pretends he has to scratch his nose and uses Harrys t-shirt, so he can breathe in. While betas can’t use their sense of smell like the other genders do, Harrys smell is _so_ sweet and so familiar, Louis loves it, even if he can smell it only as a trace or when he is very close to him, like right now. But he immediately feels like a creep and lets Harry go. He needs to know what Harry thinks before he starts smelling him like a weird pervert. Fuck.

“Banana and chocolate chip?”

“Sure. We have stuff to make those.” Harry looks a bit flushed and Louis’ insides preen.

They eat lunch and then try to make the cupcakes. It’s a disaster.

“No, Lou! You can’t just… put the bananas in,” as the bananas plop into the flour.

“Eh. You can mix it all together?” As he nudges the big junks (well, whole bananas) laying in the mixture.

“It looks like we want to fry them.”

“Oh? Can’t we? Do fried bananas exist?”

“Um. Yeah. But I don’t think this is exactly how we’re supposed to do them,” says Harry and before he can successfully take the fruit in question take out of the bowl, Louis is squashing it with a fork.

“Louis! We could still take them out!”

“But we’re still making cupcakes now, no?” he looks at Harry sheepishly. And Harry looks… fond. It’s a face he has often around Louis.

“Yeah. The cupcakes will… have character.” He looks at Louis again, “Oh, don’t look so smug, they will be edible and amazingly decorated but I doubt you’ll want seconds.”

“How dare you! These will be my precious babies.” He looks at the blobby mess. “Also, Niall will eat them.”

“He’ll eat almost anything.”

“Young Harold! You would poison our precious friend.” He clutches his imaginary pearls. Harry is crashing eggs, but the corners of his mouth are twitching suspiciously.

“So, how come Niall’s coming? Did he miss us so much yesterday?”

Louis nearly drops the packet of chocolate chips he was unsuspiciously eating out of. “Um, he’s lending me some books. He, uh, recommended me some.” There. That’s not a lie.

“Huh. It’s just weird because ever since they started dating, he and Liam spend the weekends together.”

“Well, they’re not that co-depending. They need a breathing space from time to time. Um,” he flounders when he notices the stiff line of Harry’s back. “Anyway, I think he’ll just be a mo and then return to Liam. So, yeah.” Does he _not_ know how to be normal around Harry now? Seriously. Urgh.

Thankfully, Harry lets it go and they – somehow – finish baking. Niall comes and the first thing out of his mouth after he greets them, is, “What are those?”

“Urgh, can you at least act like you’re impressed?”

“Yeah, I can, with this half,” and points to the neatly frosted and decorated cupcakes, that Harry diligently piped with colours of the four Hogwarts houses and even made the little emblems out of fondant. “But with these… Oh mate, you know I love you, but what the fuck?” Louis pretends to be hurt but honestly, he knows they look ridiculous. He tried to make Harry laugh, so while decorating, he used everything he could think of. He went as far as using a lock of Harry’s hair, that he insisted the King of the cupcakes needed to be properly crowned. He would feel weird, but the way Harry screamed and laughed while Louis chased after him through the apartment “In the name of our lord, the Cupcake King the First”, made him feel pretty accomplished. And he used the hair only on one of the cakes, the biggest one. “I made a whole court, look,” and continued to point out the other members of the court – his biggest accomplishment being the cupcake of a phallic shape he renamed from the official name of “the royal fool” to “the royal tool” and decorated it as a vibrator. 

“Mate, sometimes I seriously worry about you.”

“Don’t act so superior or you won’t get to eat one!”

“I can’t say I want to, no,” Niall slowly replies as his eyes watch the few strands of hair plop over from the King to one of the Grooms of the stool (they were the easiest to decorate – just a brown swirl at the top).

Louis huffs. And then feels a comforting hand at his hip. He stills and looks around. Harry is standing slightly behind him, full on dimpling and when he catches Louis’ eyes, for a second there’s this current of the happiest energy, of _content_ , that Louis feels immobile. But Harry feels him stiffen and the moment is broken. He quickly moves a few steps back and starts to put some of the non-haired cupcakes on a plate. Louis watches him and wants to say something but has no idea what. He startles when he catches Niall’s eyes with raised eyebrows as if asking a question. Louis gulps. And then shrugs as if to say again: It is what it is and I am confused. Niall rolls his eyes and while Harry is immersed into making them a fresh jug of lemonade (does he know something’s not completely normal?), with an excuse to use their bathroom Niall goes for his bag he left near the entrance and puts it in Louis’ room.

He returns and they all eye suspiciously their cupcakes in from of them at the breakfast table. Maybe the lemonade was a good idea, looking at the state the cupcakes are in. Even the ones that Harry decorated look… rather ill. Under all the decorations.

“Maybe we should like… toast with them?” Niall suggests. “And then eat as much as we can on one go?”

“Are you bonkers? They’re not _that_ bad,” Louis argues.

In the end they weren’t inedible, exactly as they suspected. But a bit hard to chew. Details.

When Harry took a call from his mum and left them for a while and went to his room, Niall didn’t beat around the bush.

“You two look ok.” Louis was just fixing them a tea and Niall was browsing a furniture store catalogue while sitting on a couch.

“Yeah, well, I mean, we are.” Louis puts the milk back into the fridge and takes the cups with him to the couch. “it’s just weird, innit? I don’t know if I was always so blinded _or there’s actually a chance_.” He looks at his friend with disbelief. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Lou, I’m telling you this as your best mate – you will not find another person that will bake with you your serial killer cupcakes (“Hey!”) and consider them funny. You’re both so weird.”

Louis drinks from his tea and can’t help but smile.

“You see! You think of it as some romantic shit.” Niall smiles also. “Good luck, I really hope it works out.” Louis puts his cup on the coffee table and throws himself at Niall. He quickly deposits of his cup too and hugs Louis. They lose their balance and Louis falls on Niall. They both laugh, but when he gets up, Niall stays lying. He looks like he’s thinking and when he finally carefully sits, he looks at the cushion seat that was under him. “What happened here? It was cleaned as if a serial killer really lived here.”

“Oh, Harry spilled his tea yesterday. I don’t know how much or how he cleaned it, but maybe he a made a really strong brew and needed to get rid of the stain?”

Niall moved away from the spilled area even more and looked at Louis. “Were you two here yesterday together?”

“Oh yeah, we watched a couple of movies. Why?” Niall looked amused and horrified at the same time.

“Hm, that’s nice.” He gets up. “Listen, I should go, say Harry I said goodbye, yeah? And you should read those books rather sooner than later. And have that talk with him.” He looks like he wants to say something else but stops himself.

Louis gets up as well. “Eh, okay? If you’re sure.”

Niall looks like he tries not to laugh. “You’ll be fine, don’t worry,” and pats him on a shoulder.

Shortly after he leaves, Harry emerges from his room. “Oh, did Niall leave already?”

Louis’ just looking at their cleaning cupboard in the kitchen and with head in the cabinet responds, “Yeah, he wanted to say goodbye, but I think Liam was telepathically calling to him. Listen,” he pokes out from the cabinet, what exactly did you use yesterday? For that tea stain?” At Harry’s doe-eyed look, he continues, “I think Niall might be allergic to it or something? Maybe omegas are sensitive to it? You are all right with using it?” His hand gets something out of the cupboard, opens and sniffs it and reads aloud, “All natural, getting rid of the natural smells.” He looks a bit confused and then Harry’s hands getting it out of his hands and putting it far away into the cabinet. He looks at him surprised and sees the crimson oh Harry’s cheeks. Harry closes the cabinet.

“Louis, this is so embarrassing. Can you just leave it be?” Louis just continues looking at him confused. Harry puts his face in his hands. “We were watching that movie.” Louis blinks. “I liked it. So.” He shifts like he’s contemplating running to his room. “I- I haven’t had sex in _so_ long.” Oh. _Oh_.

“Oh.” Jesus Christ and all of the above. Louis doesn’t know who is redder now. “I- I- Sorry. I had no idea.” He feels embarrassed, inadequate and most horribly – turned on.

“Yup. So I’ll just,” Harry points to his bedroom, “go back and suffer under my blankets. If you’ll excuse me.”

When he’s almost out of the kitchen, Louis finally wakes up and calls after him, “Harry, it’s all right! You can’t help it. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you to tell me.”

Harry stops and without turning back replies, “I know, Lou. It’s not your fault,” and leaves.

Louis can’t help but fear that he’s moving away from him as much physically as mentally. But he has no way to help him now. He waits for Harry’s door to close and goes to his room. Looks at the two new books at his bed, lies down and starts reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are my bread and butter and I’ll love you forever if you bestow upon me one or the other! <3


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